


All I Care About

by protostar (variablestar)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), College/University, Happy Birthday Kenma, M/M, uhh other characters mentioned but they don't actually show up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 19:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/variablestar/pseuds/protostar
Summary: He doesn’t really care much about birthdays, definitely doesn’t care much about his own.  But that doesn’t change the disappointed feeling in his chest.Objectively, he knows what’s missing.  The one thing he’s historically always had on his birthday, the one person who’s always been there.Kenma's missing Kuroo on his birthday.





	All I Care About

            Kenma’s never been one to make a big deal out of his birthday. It isn’t anything particularly special, really. His mom has always made an apple pie for him — and more recently, with Kuroo’s help — and he always got a new video game, some little things from the team. Kuroo was always allowed to spend the night when they were kids, and Yamamoto had taken him to get ice cream after evening practice throughout their three years in high school. But it isn’t some big spectacle; Kenma doesn’t care enough about it for it to be one.

 

            He doesn’t really care much about birthdays, definitely doesn’t care much about his own. But that doesn’t change the disappointed feeling in his chest as he sits behind the convenience store counter, seeing a text notification from Fukunaga pop up on his screen (three balloon emojis, a present, a happy face). It shouldn’t matter that his birthday is turning out like this. He’s had worse birthdays and been fine with it.

 

            There was the year he’d had a math test (which he’d barely passed), the time he’d fallen off his bike and had to get stitches in his knee. And this isn’t a bad one, when it comes down to it. Semi and Atsumu had brought him apple tarts early that morning — the bakery didn’t have any proper pies — and he hadn’t had any classes. Kyoutani gave him a new pair of headphones, even though he kind of owed them to Kenma anyway, since his dog is the one that chewed up the wire on the old pair. Terushima is on his way with dinner.

 

            Objectively, he knows what’s missing. The one thing he’s historically always had on his birthday, the one person who’s always been there. He _knows_ he’s missing Kuroo, who’s across the city at his own university. It’s close, but not close enough to make the hour trip over when he’s got so much to do. Kenma Skyped him earlier, which was fine, he supposes. But seeing him on a screen isn’t the same as having him there next to him. He’ll come over for the weekend, something they already agreed on; Kuroo has midterms right now, has a paper due at midnight that he’s been putting off, has to be up early in the morning for practice before his chemistry exam. He wouldn’t get much time with Kenma even if he _did_ come out, and Kenma knows it’s better this way, to wait. He knows not to be selfish.

 

            He just wishes he could be.

 

            There’s a bell above the door to the corner store that rings when it opens. It’s the first time anyone’s come in since Kenma got here. Originally, he’d hoped that being at work for the evening would keep his mind off the fact that he’s missing Kuroo. But it’s the slowest shift he’s had since he started, and all he’s had to distract himself with are the texts from his friends and the handful of magazines on the rack at the counter.

 

            And now, Terushima.

 

            “Ken! I brought yakisoba!” There’s a plastic bag hanging from the crook of his arm, and he’s wearing the dog sweater Kenma picked up for him on a whim. “I was gonna get Tekka maki, but this was closer, and I’m pretty sure you like it more, anyway.” He’s right, but Kenma doesn’t say so. Just moves the magazine he was flipping through out of the way, to make room for the food and for Terushima to sit up on the counter like he always does when he drops by. “Busy?”

 

            “You’re the first person to come in,” Kenma tells him.

 

            “You like that, though,” Terushima says, hoisting himself up onto the counter. Kenma’s probably not supposed to let him do that, but he’s also supposed to not do a lot of things that he does anyway. Like playing Go Fish with Atsumu when they share the graveyard shift, reading all the magazines they have displayed. “You hate talking to customers.”

 

            Kenma shrugs. It’s true that a slow night is usually the ideal, but when he’s sitting alone without Kuroo on his birthday, he’d rather have an endless string of customers. But Terushima doesn’t really need to know that.

 

            “Oh, brought you Fanta,” Terushima tells him. “Pained me to buy something so awful, but anything for you.” He pulls a bottle out of the bag and passes it over, and Kenma ignores the disgusted look on his face.

 

            “If you’re going to shit on my drink preference, you can go,” Kenma says.

 

            “As if.” Terushima leans back on his elbows, barely managing not to go right off the edge of the counter. “You’d miss me if I left, be honest, Kenma. Who else is going to bring you dinner?”

 

            “Kentarou, if I texted him,” Kenma replies. “He offered already.”

 

            “ _Rude!_ You know, you’re lucky I love you, or I’d walk out right now.” He reaches for the magazine Kenma had been flipping through. Kenma takes his dinner from the bag. “Atsumu wanted me to ask what kind of cake you want.”

 

            Kenma looks over, wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want cake.”

 

            “You always want cake,” Terushima says. “You ate, like, half of Atsumu’s on _his_ birthday.” Terushima sits up and turns to properly face Kenma, looks him up and down. “What’s up, Ken?”

 

            Kenma takes a bite of the yakisoba and avoids looking back at Terushima. It’s _stupid_ , birthdays are _stupid_ , and Kenma shouldn’t care this much. He has his friends and Kuroo’s coming as soon as he’s finished with this hell week, and it’s _fine_. Except, it’s kind of _not_ , because Kenma’s sitting at work sulking over a problem that shouldn’t be a problem at all.

 

            “Shitty to work on your birthday?” Terushima guesses. “Only a couple hours left, you know. Then you can come back, you can take a bath if you want! Have that bubble bath that smells like cherries. Your favorite. I’ll lock Atsumu out.”

 

            And that _does_ sound nice. On any other day, it’d be enough to get his mind off whatever was bothering him. But the Skype call with Kuroo had been too brief, and apple tarts aren’t the same as apple pie.

 

            “Or not,” Terushima says. “I can smuggle Semi’s cat over, if you want. He’ll never know she’s gone. Or I can smuggle _Semi_ over, I got some of that super spicy shit, you know that face he makes when he eats it. I don’t care what he says, he totally hates it.” He stops, pushes Kenma’s hair out of his face. “Kuroo?”

 

            Kenma looks away. “It shouldn’t matter. It’s fine.”

 

            “No! Ken, you’re allowed to be sad he isn’t here,” Terushima says. He hops off the counter and wraps his arms around Kenma from behind, rests his chin on his shoulder. “It’s the first time he’s missed, right? I know you don’t care about your birthday, but you care about _him_. You’re allowed to be sad! You can be sad, Kenma, and drink your shitty Fanta, and when you’re done with work, we can go home and you can kick all our asses at Mario Kart. You wanna talk about it? You never talk about Kuroo, tell me about him.”

 

            Kenma makes a face and pushes Terushima off him. “Gross.”

 

            Terushima laughs and moves back up onto the counter, swinging his legs. “Fine, fine, I’ll just _guess_ what you’re thinking. I can be like Tendou, you know?”

 

            “Yuu.”

 

            “He got you that little cat ceramic you have on your bookshelf, didn’t he? Bet he always gets you something you like. Like that really ugly sweater you always wear. Don’t make that face, you know it’s awful! Suits you, though.”

 

            “Yuuji.”

 

            “Stepped up his game since you’re dating now?” Terushima asks. “Flowers? Homemade pie?” He drops his voice down to a whisper, and Kenma already knows what’s coming. “ _Birthday sex?_ “

 

            “ _Yuuji._ “

 

            Terushima’s head falls back with his laughter, and Kenma bites back a smile. He’s not going to let him know that any of this is making him feel even a little bit better.

 

            “Is that a yes?” Terushima says between peals of laughter. Kenma shoves at his shoulder, which only serves to make him laugh harder.

 

            “I’m asking for Kentarou next time,” Kenma says. They both know he’s lying.

 

            “ _Please_ , you _love_ me,” Terushima says. He leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees. “What’re you going to do when he comes next weekend? Going out or staying in? Because we’ll clear out of the apartment if you want.”

 

            “Both,” Kenma tells him. He doesn’t even need to ask Kuroo to know. It’ll be to breakfast after getting him from the train, and probably to the cat café Kuroo keeps telling him about. But Kenma also knows he’ll want to go back to the apartment, because he knows Kenma’s always preferred a quieter day in, with movies and cheap candy. “It’ll be a couple hours after I meet him at the train, but we’ll be at the apartment.”

 

            Terushima wiggles his eyebrows, and Kenma shoves him off the counter.

 

            It’s a quiet couple of hours after that — only a couple customers come in — and Terushima stays the whole time. He _does_ , admittedly, want to just go home, play Mario Kart with his friends. He knows Atsumu’s got a chocolate cake waiting, knows Kyoutani’s left his dog at Yahaba’s so Kenma won’t spend the whole night sneezing. He might not have Kuroo, but he can at least appreciate having _them_.

 

            There’s twenty minutes until the end of his shift when Terushima drops off the counter. “Can I meet you back at the apartment?” he asks, looking up from his phone. “Got something to pick up still!”

 

            Kenma shrugs. “You can go,” he says. He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t love the idea of walking back alone in the dark. If Terushima needs to go, then fine. It’s not far, anyway.

 

            “Don’t get mugged coming home!” Terushima tells him. He plants a sloppy kiss on Kenma’s cheek and darts out before Kenma can retaliate.

 

            Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes, then he can go home, and he’ll have a real distraction.

 

            He tidies the magazine rack, throws out the trash from dinner, replies to the texts from Kai and Hinata. He’ll be lucky if Atsumu remembered that he doesn’t like chocolate frosting.

 

            Kunimi comes in just before Kenma’s shift is over with a single slice of apple pie from the grocery store near his apartment. There’s something about the half-smile on his face as he wishes Kenma a happy birthday and tells him he can go early if he wants that Kenma can’t quite pin. He just nods and thanks him and takes his jacket, heads out.

 

            There’s an arm around his shoulders the instant he’s out the door, solid and secure, and Kenma jumps. There’s a wave of panic down his spine before the familiarity of it hits him.

 

            “Slow night at work?”

 

            Kenma turns, holds back a smile as he looks up at Kuroo’s grin. “You’re supposed to be at school.”

 

            “C’mon, I haven’t missed a single birthday yet,” Kuroo says. “Did you really think I’d start now?”

 

            “You missed the first four. “

 

            “I didn’t know you for the first four.”

 

            “The eleventh.” Kenma leans into Kuroo’s side, feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at Kuroo’s offended expression.

 

            “ _The eleventh wasn’t my fault_.”

 

            “Was so.”

 

            “Was _not_.”

 

            “Was _so._ “

 

            Kuroo laughs, pulls Kenma closer. “I won’t fight you on your birthday. Even if I’m right.”

 

            “You’re not,” Kenma replies. There’s a lightness in his chest that he’s been missing all night. “What happened to your paper?”

 

            Kuroo gives him a bemused look. “I finished it yesterday. You really think I’d leave it off so that I couldn’t come see you? All my work’s done, Oikawa’s covering for me tomorrow so I don’t have to show up to morning practice. I’ll have plenty of time here with you, Kenma.”

 

            He ducks his head down, brushes his lips against Kenma’s, the same teasing way he always does before Kenma pulls him closer to kiss him for _real_ , soft and slow and sweet. _This_ is what he was missing.

 

* * *

 

 

            The apartment’s empty when they get there. There’s a full, proper apple pie on the counter, candles poked through the top, and a card from the rest of his friends sitting next to it. He ignores the post-it note on the fridge from Terushima, specifically the sloppy winking face in the corner.

 

            “I got Terushima to bring the pie over,” Kuroo says. “I didn’t have your mom to help, so if it’s not good, you don’t get to blame me for it.”

 

            Kenma smiles, laughs against Kuroo’s lips when he pulls him down. Terushima does _not_ need to know that it was a yes.

 

            He can feel Kuroo’s smile against his skin as his mouth trails across his jaw, down his neck. It’s not a particularly special day, and it still doesn't really mean that much, but still.

 

            Kenma figures he’s allowed to love it.

 

            “Happy birthday, Kenma.”

**Author's Note:**

> my gift to kenma is his friendship with terushima thanks


End file.
